


Nightshifter (2.12)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [35]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bank Robbery, Canon Related, Episode: s02e12 Nightshifter, Screenplay/Script Format, Shapeshifter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 01:25:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7146500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Da Winchestas rewind a seriez of crimes where robbers wit no criminal past commit suicizzle afta tha hold-ups.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

[channel] 8 - BREAKING NEWS

EXT. BANK - NIGHT

We peep tha scene- a funky-ass bank surrounded by five-o cars, press, n' a ambulizzle- all up in a handheld shizzle camera. Da tags "BANK ROBBERY - Milwaukee, WI" step tha fuck up in tha lower left corner n' "RECORDED EARLIER" up in tha upper right fo' realz. A biatch REPORTER speaks off camera.

 **REPORTER (O.C.)**  
Our thugged-out asses here downtown up in front of tha Citizzle Bank of Milwaukee, n' though a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass short exchange of weapons fire occurred just minutes ago, five-o n' SWAT crews maintain posizzle as we enta tha third minute of dis intense standoff.   
(ON CAMERA)  
Authoritizzles estimate as nuff as ten hostages is bein held inside tha bank; no word as yet on tha identitizzle of tha suspects, or, uh,  
(commotion behind her)  
Somethingz happening. I be thinkin they openin tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Roger, is you gettin this?

Popo n' others nearby shout over each other as tha camera refocuses ta tha front door of tha bank. 

 **MAN'S VOICE  
** Fuck dat shit, don't blast, don't blast playa!

 **DEAN'S VOICE  
** Fuck dat shit, no, no, don't even be thinkin bout dat shiznit son! Git tha hell back!

Da camera closes up in on two pimps exitin tha bank: a terrified securitizzle guard, n' DEAN, pushin tha other playa up in front of his ass n' holdin a rifle. 


	2. ACT ONE

SUBTITLE:  
Milwaukee, Wisconsin  
ONE DAY AGO

INT. JEWELRY STORE - NIGHT

An bangin lil' biatch (FRANNIE) comes outta tha back wit some papers up in her hand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! DEAN turns ta grill her as her big-ass booty speaks yo. Dude is dressed up in a thugged-out dark suit.

 **FRANNIE  
** So whatz it like, bein a STD muthafucka?

 **DEAN  
** Well, itz dangerous fo' realz. And tha secrets we've gotta keep, oh. God, tha secrets, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. But mostly it's, itz lonely.

 **FRANNIE  
** I so know what tha fuck you mean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN, noddin sagely  
** Yeah. 

Elsewhere up in tha store: SAM, also dressed up in a suit, wit slicked hair, is invigoratin tha manager, a middle aged man.

 **MANAGER  
** Helena was our head buyer n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch . . . dat biiiiatch was crew, you know, biatch? Biatch holla'd it her muthafuckin ass, every last muthafuckin year all up in tha Chrizzle party. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch holla'd we was tha only crew dat freaky freaky biatch had.

 **SAM  
** So there was never any signs dat she'd do suttin' like this?

 **MANAGER  
** No. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Still can't believe it, even now, nahmeean, biatch? That night, Helena came back ta tha store afta closing. Cleaned up all tha display cases, n' tha safe. Edgar- our night watchman- his schmoooove ass caught her up in tha act yo. Dude didn't give a fuck what tha fuck ta do, he'd known her fo' muthafuckin years yo. Dude called mah crazy ass at home.

 **SAM  
** And thatz when dat dunkadelic hoe took his wild lil' freakadelic gun?

 **MANAGER  
** Bitch blasted his ass up in tha face. I heard his ass take a thugged-out dirt nap. Over tha phone.

 **SAM  
** Any scam what tha fuck her motizzle could have been?

 **MANAGER  
** What motive, biatch? It make no sense. Why loot all dem diamonds, all dat jewelry, n' then what, biatch? Just dump it somewhere, just hide it, n' then bounce back ta tha doggy den and,

CUT TO: DEAN AND FRANNIE

 **DEAN  
** Bitch capped her muthafuckin ass?

 **FRANNIE  
** Well, tha cops holla'd. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Biatch dropped tha afro dryer up in tha bath n' fried her muthafuckin ass. They should know, right?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. Well, props, Frannie, I be thinkin thatz all I need.

 **FRANNIE**  
Really, biatch? Because I've gots mo' n' mo' n' mo'. Yo ass know,   
(lookin round slyly)  
if you wanted ta rap battle me sometime. In private?

 **DEAN**  
(eyein SAM guiltily across tha room)  
Yeah. Yeah, I be thinkin thatz a phat idea. Yo ass be a legit patriot, you straight-up are. Why don't you write yo' number down there fo' me, that'd be good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! 

CUT TO: SAM AND THE MANAGER

 **SAM  
** So you never saw tha securitizzle camera footage yo ass, then?

 **MANAGER  
** No. Da police, they took all tha tapes, first thang. 

 **DEAN**  
(approaching)  
Yeah, of course they done did.  
(he waves FRANNIE'S number at SAM)

EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STREET - NIGHT

Leavin tha blin store, SAM n' DEAN drive down a thugged-out dark street n' pull up in front of a lil' small-ass house.

 **SAM  
** Five -- dis is dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** Friggin' cops. 

 **SAM  
** They're just bustin they thang, Dean.

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, they bustin our thang, only they don't give a fuck it, so they suck at dat shit. Talk ta me bout dis bank.

They git outta tha hoopty n' approach tha house.

 **SAM  
** Uh, Milwaukee Nationizzle Trust. Dat shiznit was hit on some month ago. 

 **DEAN  
** Same M.O. as tha blin store?

 **SAM  
** Yep, inside thang, longtime hommie, tha never-in-a-million-years type. Dude robs tha bank, then goes home n' supposedly commits suicide. 

 **DEAN  
** Da muthafucka Resnick, da thug was tha securitizzle guard on duty?

 **SAM  
** Yeah yo. Dude was straight-up beaten unconscious by tha tella whoz ass heisted tha place. 

 **DEAN  
** God.

 **SAM**  
Yeah.  
(knockin on tha screen door)  
Mista Muthafuckin Resnick, biatch? Ronald Resnick?

A bright floodlight turns on, n' they shield they eyes.

 **DEAN  
** Son of a --

A youngish playa comes ta tha door warily. 

 **SAM  
** STD, Mista Muthafuckin Resnick. 

 **RONALD (all up in tha screen)  
** Let me peep tha badge. 

SAM n' DEAN pull up badges n' slap dem against tha screen door up in unison. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. RONALD squints at dem carefully.

 **RONALD  
** I already gave mah statement ta tha police. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, listen Ronald, um . . . just some thangs bout yo' statement we wanted ta git some clarification on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **RONALD  
** Yo ass read it?

 **DEAN  
** Sure done did. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **RONALD  
** Yo ass come ta dig what tha fuck I've gots ta say?

 **DEAN  
** Well, thatz why our crazy asses here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **RONALD  
** Well. Come on in.

RONALD opens tha door n' leadz dem all up in a narrow hallway ta a cold-ass lil cluttered room; tha walls is covered wit alien photos n' conspiracy theory paraphernalia. 

 **RONALD  
** None of tha cops eva called mah crazy ass back. Not afta I holla'd at dem what tha fuck was straight-up goin on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Uh, they all thought I was crazy. First off, Juan Moralez never robbed tha Milwaukee Nationizzle Trust, aiiight, biatch? That, I guarantee. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See, we n' Juan was playaz yo. Dude used ta come back ta tha bank on mah night shifts, n' we'd play cards. 

 **SAM  
** So you let his ass tha fuck into tha bank dat night, afta hours. 

 **RONALD  
** Da thang I let tha fuck into tha bank . . . wasn't Juan. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I mean, it had his wild lil' grill yo, but it wasn't his wild lil' face. Uh, every last muthafuckin detail was slick yo, but too perfect, you know, like if a thugged-out dollmaker made it, like I was poppin' off ta a funky-ass big-ass Juan-doll. 

 **SAM (doubtfully)  
** A Juan-doll?

 **RONALD**  
Look. This wasn't tha only time dis happened. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Okay?  
(handin SAM a gangbangin' file folder)  
There was dis blin store, like a muthafucka fo' realz. And tha cops, a--and you muthafuckas, you just won't peep dat shiznit son!  
(SAM looks up in tha folder; it be lookin like a Hustlaz flava of tha blin case)  
Both crimes was pulled by tha same thang. 

 **SAM  
** Whatz that, Mista Muthafuckin Resnick?

RONALD picks up a cold-ass lil copy of a magazine called "Fortean Times" n' holdz it ta his chest. Da headline all up in tha bottom readz "BIRTH OF THE CYBERMEN".

 **RONALD  
** Chinese've been hustlin on 'em fo' muthafuckin years fo' realz. And tha Russians before dis shit. Part men, part machine. Like tha Terminator. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. But tha kind dat can chizzle itself, make itself be lookin like other people.

 **DEAN**  
(smirking)  
Like tha one from T2. 

 **RONALD  
** Exactly dawwwwg! See, so not just a robot, mo' of a, a, a, a ... Mandroid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **SAM  
** A Mandroid?

 **DEAN  
** And what tha fuck make you so shizzle bout this, Ronald?

RONALD holdz up a gangbangin' finger, smilin a lil wildly.

CUT TO: RONALD bangs a VHS tape labeled "M.N.T. Camera 4 - Juan" tha fuck into a playa n' shit. 

 **RONALD**  
See, I made copiez of all tha securitizzle tapes. I knew once tha cops gots dem they'd be buried. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! (Dean nods.) Here.  
  
(he fast-forwards)  
Now watch. Watch. Watch him, peep it, watch! See, look! Th-, th-, there it is!  
(he pauses tha tape)  
Yo ass see, biatch? Dat punk gots tha laser eyes. 

Close up in on tha vizzletape, which shows JUAN, facin tha camera, wit a light-flare up in his wild lil' fuckin eyes (like tha shapeshifta from "Skin"). Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM n' DEAN share a knowin look.

 **RONALD**  
Cops holla'd dat shiznit was some kind of reflected light. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Some kind of "camera flare". Okay, biatch? Ain't no damn camera flare. They say I be a post-trauma case. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So what, biatch? Bank goes n' fires me, it don't matter son!  
(SAM eyes his ass cautiously as his schmoooove ass continues ta rant)  
Da mandrizzle is, is still up there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Da law won't hunt dis thang down -- I be bout ta do it mah dirty ass. Yo ass see, dis thang, it, it, it kills tha real person, make it be lookin like a suicide, then it sorta, like, morphs tha fuck into dat person. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Cases tha thang fo' a while until it knows tha take is fat, n' then it findz its opening. Now, these robberies, they're, they grouped together.  
(gesturin at a map on tha wall)  
So I figure tha mandrizzle is holed up somewhere up in tha middle, underground, maybe. I dunno, maybe thatz where it recharges its, uh, mandrizzle batteries. Put ya muthafuckin choppers up if ya feel dis!

DEAN nods, apparently impressed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! SAM stares intently; they both stand.

 **SAM  
** Okay. I want you ta listen straight-up carefully. Because I be bout ta rap tha Godz real truth bout all of all dis bullshit. (Dean smiles, waitin ta peep what tha fuck Sam say.) Therez no such thang as Mandroids. Therez not a god damn thang evil or inhuman goin on up there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Just people. Nothang else, you understand?

DEAN is mostly keepin a straight grill yo, but is clearly startled. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude starts ta say something.

 **RONALD**  
(desperate)  
Da laser eyes. 

 **SAM  
** Just a cold-ass lil camera flare, Mista Muthafuckin Resnick. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See, I know you don't wanna believe all dis bullshit. But yo' playa Juan robbed tha bank n' thatz dat shit. 

 **RONALD  
** Git outta mah doggy den biaaatch! Now!

 **SAM**  
(calmly)  
Sure. First thangs first. 

DEAN frowns at SAM up in further mad drama.  


  
INT. MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

SAM n' DEAN return ta they motel room, which has tha obligatory Tacky Wall Decorations. They're dressed up in ordinary threadz again.

 **DEAN  
** Man, dat has gots ta be tha kicker, straight up. I mean, you tell dat skanky lil hustla of a funky-ass biiiatch dat -- what tha fuck did you say, remand tha tapes dat his schmoooove ass copied, biatch? Classified evidence of a ongoin investigation, biatch? (Laughs) Thatz messed up.

 **SAM**  
(sittin down ta peep tha tape)  
What is you, pissed all up in mah grill or something?

 **DEAN  
** Nah, I just be thinkin itz a lil creepy how tha fuck phat of a Fed yo ass is. I mean, come on, we could have at least thrown tha muthafucka a funky-ass bone yo. Dude did some pretty phat legwork here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **SAM  
** Mandroid?

 **DEAN  
** Except fo' tha mandrizzle part. I was horny bout his muthafuckin ass. Dat punk not dat different from you or mah dirty ass. Muthafuckas be thinkin we crazy.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, except he not a hunter, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Dat punk just a muthafucka whoz ass stumbled onto suttin' real. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. If da thug was ta go up against dis thang he'd git torn apart. Betta ta stay up in tha dark, n' stay kickin it.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, I guess. 

DEAN places tracin paper over tha map n' starts markin it wit a red pen as SAM pauses tha tape on tha flarin eyes. 

 **SAM  
** Shapeshifter n' shit. Just like back up in St. Louis. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Same retinal erection ta vizzle. 

 **DEAN  
** Eyes flare all up in tha camera. I don't give a fuck bout dem friggin' thangs. 

 **SAM  
** Yo ass be thinkin I don't?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, well, one didn't turn tha fuck into you n' frame you fo' cappin' n' shit. (Dean is tracin a pattern on paper of tha sewer system.) 

 **SAM  
** Well, look. If dis shifterz anythang like tha one we capped up in Missouri ...

 **DEAN  
** Then Ronald was right fo' realz. All right, they like ta layer up underground, preferably tha sewer n' shiznit fo' realz. And all tha robberies done been connected so far, right, biatch? 

 **SAM  
** Yeah.

 **DEAN**  
With the, uh, sewer main layout. Therez one mo' bank lined up on dat same sewer main.  


  
EXT. BANK - NIGHT

Da sign above tha door reads:

CITY BANK OF  
MILWAUKEE  
FINANCIAL SERVICES & INVESTMENT

INSIDE: Establishin shotz of tha bank hommies; a securitizzle guard leadz SAM n' DEAN, now uniformed as Securiserve Guard Service technicians, down tha main hall.

 **GUARD  
** Well, we aint had any flags go up on our system yet. 

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, dis be a glitch up in tha overall grid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Us playas just wanna make shizzle tha branch monitors is kosher.

 **GUARD  
** Well, betta ta be safe than sorry, I guess. 

 **DEAN**  
Thatz tha plan. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.   


  
INT. GUARDROOM - NIGHT

Da GUARD opens tha door ta a observation room wit nuff muthafuckin TV screens showin securitizzle footage. 

 **GUARD  
** All righty. Yo ass muthafuckas need anythang else?

 **SAM  
** Oh, no, no, we'll be, uh, we'll be up in n' up before you know it, just a routine check.

 **GUARD  
** Okie-dokie.

 **DEAN  
** I wanna bust a nut on his muthafuckin ass yo. Dude say "Okie-dokie."

 **SAM  
** What if tha pimpin' muthafucka tha shifter?

 **DEAN  
** Well, then we follow his ass home, put a silver cap all up in his chestplate. 

They sit tha fuck down ta peep tha screens. 

 **DEAN  
** Okay. Well, you gots any popcorn?

LATER - still reviewin tha screens; tha GUARD is on one, n' his wild lil' fuckin eyes is normal.

 **DEAN  
** Well, it be lookin like mista okie-dokie is . . . okie-dokie. 

 **SAM  
** Maybe our laid-back asses jumped tha glock on this, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I mean, our phat asses don't even know itz here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **DEAN**  
(distracted)  
Mm-hmm.

 **SAM  
** Maybe we should just go back ta tha sewers n' . . n' . . . 

DEAN is zoomin one of tha cameras up in on tha ass of a bangin lil' biatch whoz ass is bendin over.

 **SAM**  
(exasperated)   
Dean, we supposed ta be lookin fo' eyes. 

 **DEAN  
** I be gettin there.

 **SAM  
** Oh yeah?

 **DEAN  
** Wait a minute.

On another screen, a middle-aged playa turns towardz tha camera; his wild lil' fuckin eyes flare.

 **DEAN  
** Yo muthafucka, freak.

 **SAM  
** Got his muthafuckin ass. 

SAM headz fo' tha door yo, but DEAN lingers behind, lookin at another screen.

 **DEAN  
** Sam!

 **SAM  
** What?

They peep it as RONALD scurries up ta tha outa door wit a cold-ass lil chain n' a padlock, chainin tha door shut. 

 **DEAN**  
Wuz crackalackin' Ronald.  


  
INT. MAIN BANK HALL - NIGHT

RONALD runs inside n' down tha stairs yo. Dude has a assault rifle, n' his thugged-out lil' punk-ass brandishes it n' fires once as he gets ta tha bottom of tha stairs. 

 **RONALD  
** This aint a robbery dawwwwg! All Y'all on tha floor now!

 


	3. ACT TWO

INT. BANK MAIN HALL

RONALD fires again n' again n' again tha fuck into tha air, n' playas begin beatboxin n' duckin fo' cover n' shit. 

 **RONALD**  
Git down, dammit son! Come on! On tha floor, on tha floor playa! In tha middle biaaatch! On tha floor up in tha middle biaaatch! In tha middle, on tha floor, come on! Hurry up, come on!   


  
INT yo. HALLWAY 

DEAN n' SAM strutt down a hallway towardz tha main hall; all dem panicked playas brush past them, hustlin tha other way.

 **DEAN  
** And you holla'd we shouldn't brang guns. 

 **SAM  
** I didn't give a fuck dis was gonna happen, Dean.

 **DEAN**  
Just let me do tha rappin'. I don't be thinkin he likes you straight-up much, Agent Johnson.  


  
INT. BANK MAIN HALL

 **RONALD**  
(holdin up a key)  
Now, there be a only one way up in or outta here, n' I chained it up. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So no muthafuckaz leaving, do you understand?

 **DEAN**  
(entering)  
Yo, dawg. Calm down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Just quit trippin' out, 

 **RONALD  
** What the- You! Git on tha floor, now, nahmeean?

 **DEAN  
** Okay, our phat asses bustin dis shit. Just don't blast anybody, especially us. 

 **RONALD  
** I knew it fo' realz. As soon as you two left. Yo ass ain't STD. Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is yo slick ass, biatch? Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is you hustlin for, huh, biatch? Da pimps up in black, biatch? Yo ass hustlin fo' tha mandroid?

 **SAM  
** We not hustlin fo' tha mandrizzle dawwwg!

 **RONALD  
** You, shut tha fuck up! I ain't poppin' off ta you, biatch. I don't like you, biatch. 

DEAN gives SAM a "I holla'd at you so" look.

 **SAM  
** Fair enough cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. 

 **RONALD**  
(to one of tha hostages)  
Git on 'em. Frisk dem down, make shizzle they gots no weapons on dem wild-ass muthafuckas. Go!

A middle-aged black playa goes over ta SAM n' DEAN n' frisks them; he findz a knife up in DEAN'S boot. 

 **RONALD  
** Now what tha fuck have our crazy asses here?

 **DEAN**  
(on SAM'S look)  
I aint just gonna strutt up in here naked dawwwg!

 **RONALD**  
(takin tha knife)  
Git back there.

Dude drops tha knife up in tha deposit box. Well shiiiit, it clatters.

 **DEAN**  
Fuck dat shit, no, no, no, no!  
(winces)  
We know you don't wanna hurt anybody. Thatz exactly whatz gonna happen if you keep wavin dat cannon around, n' why don't you let these playas go?

 **RONALD  
** No! I already holla'd at you, biatch. If no muthafuckaz gonna stop dis thang, then I've gots ta do it mah dirty ass. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo, we believe you, nahmean biiiatch, biatch? Thatz why our crazy asses here.

 **RONALD  
** Yo ass don't believe mah dirty ass. No Muthafucka believes me biaaatch! How tha fuck could they?

 **DEAN  
** Come here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **RONALD  
** What, biatch? No.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass is holdin tha gun, boss, you callin tha shots, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. I just wanna rap something. Come here.

RONALD approaches cautiously n' leans in.

 **DEAN**  
(quietly)  
It aint nuthin but tha bank manager n' shit. 

 **RONALD  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** Why do you be thinkin we've gots these getups, huh, biatch? We've been monitorin tha cameras up in tha back. We saw tha bank manager n' shit. We saw his wild lil' fuckin eyes. 

 **RONALD  
** His laser eyes?

 **DEAN  
** Yes yes y'all. No. No! Fuck dat shit, look, we hustlin outta time, aiiight, biatch? We've gots ta find his ass before his schmoooove ass chizzlez tha fuck into one of mah thugs.

 **RONALD  
** Like I'ma dig you, biatch. Yo ass be a thugged-out damn liar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

DEAN standz cautiously, handz out.

 **RONALD  
** I be bout ta blast you, nahmean biiiatch, biatch? Git down!

 **DEAN**  
Take mah dirty ass. Okay, biatch? Take me wit you, take me as a hostage. But we've gotta act fast. Because tha longer our laid-back asses just sit here tha mo' time dat schmoooove muthafucka has ta chizzle.   
(beat)  
Look at me, man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I believe you, biatch. Yo ass aint crazy. There straight-up is suttin' inside dis bank. 

 **RONALD**  
All right. Yo ass come wit mah dirty ass. But any suckas gets up in tha vault son! (gasps n' cries from tha other hostages)  


  
EXT. BANK

A POLICEMAN paces outside, then goes round tha corner where nuff muthafuckin five-o rides is waiting.

 **POLICEMAN**  
Come on, move, move biaatch!  


  
INT. VAULT ROOM

RONALD ushers tha hostages, includin SAM, tha fuck into tha vault.

 **RONALD**  
Come on, move, move biaaatch! Move, move biaatch!  
(to DEAN)  
And you lock it up.

DEAN starts movin tha heavy door shut.

 **DEAN  
** It aint nuthin but all gravy, everyone. Just stay cool.

Dude shrugs at SAM up in apology; Sam swallows unhappily; Dean slams tha door shut.   


  
INT. VAULT 

A lil' redhead (SHERRY) stares afta his muthafuckin ass.

 **SHERRY  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is dat man?

 **SAM**  
(worried)  
Dat punk mah brother.

 **SHERRY  
** Dude is so brave.

SAM straight-up nearly rolls his wild lil' fuckin eyes.  


  
INT. OFFICE 

RONALD precedes DEAN tha fuck into a seriez of offices; DEAN has removed his uniform jacket ta reveal a gangbangin' flannel shirt. 

 **DEAN  
** Peep behind tha desk. 

As DEAN checks a funky-ass back room, RONALD falls, yelling. DEAN comes back out, eyes darting. RONALD is lyin on tha floor next ta a slimy pile of skin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude screams n' stands, pointin his wild lil' freakadelic glock at dat shit.

 **RONALD  
** What tha hell is that?

 **DEAN**  
(turnin a lamp on tha pile)  
Oh, pimped out.  
(pause)  
When it chizzlez form, it shedz its oldschool skin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, now it could be anybody. 

 **RONALD**  
(pickin up a piece of skin n' smellin it)  
It aint nuthin but so, so weird. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Its robot skin is so gamelike. 

 **DEAN  
** Okay, letz git suttin' straight. It's, it aint a mandroid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! It aint nuthin but a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shapeshifter.

 **RONALD  
** Shapeshifter?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. I mean, itz human, mo' or less yo. Has human drives -- n' up in dis case itz scrilla. But it generates its own skin, it can shape it ta match one of mah thugsz features, you know, taller, shorter, male, 

 **RONALD  
** So it, it, it kills one of mah thugs n' then takes they place. 

 **DEAN  
** Kills them, don't bust a cap up in them, I don't be thinkin it straight-up matters. 

 **RONALD  
** What is you bustin?

DEAN picks up a letta opener from tha desk n' examines it yo. Dude sighs up in relief.

 **DEAN**  
Nice.  
(to RONALD)  
Yo ass remember tha oldschool werewolf stories, biatch? Pretty much came from these muthafuckas. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Silverz tha only thang I've peeped dat hurts dem wild-ass muthafuckas.  
(stridin up tha door)  
Come on, Ronald. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

RONALD grimaces all up in tha skin, then bigs up DEAN, grinning.   


  
EXT. BANK 

A helicopter, a S.W.A.T. five-o vehicle, n' tha Channel 8 Shit van join tha scene outside fo' realz. A red hoopty pulls up, n' a middle-aged playa up in a suit n' long coat gets up yo. Dude goes tha fuck into tha command van, where nuff muthafuckin other fools is seated round monitors fo' realz. A uniformed fool is stirrin a cold-ass lil cup of coffee. 

 **DETECTIVE  
** How tha fuck our phat asses bustin?

 **OFFICER  
** Another dizzle up in paradise.

 **DETECTIVE  
** No onez come up yet?

 **OFFICER  
** This muthafucka locked his dirty ass in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. First thang da ruffneck done did. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **DETECTIVE**  
(chuckling)  
All right. Cut tha power.  


  
INT. BANK HALLWAY

RONALD is followin DEAN down a wider hallway, still chuckling.

 **DEAN  
** What is you, nuts?

 **RONALD  
** Thatz just dat shit. I aint nuts, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. I mean, I was so scared dat I was losin mah marbles. But dis is real! I mean, I, I, I was right son! Except fo' tha mandrizzle thang. Nuff props, biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, don't mention dat shit. 

Suddenly, tha juice cuts out; all dem emergency lights click on.

 **DEAN  
** Dammit son! Fuck dat shit, no, no, no, no, no. 

 **RONALD  
** What, biatch? What tha fuck iz it?

 **DEAN  
** They cut tha juice n' shit. Probably they way of sayin hi. 

 **RONALD  
** Who?

 **DEAN  
** Da cops. 

 **RONALD  
** Da cops?!

 **DEAN**  
(stopping)  
Well, you weren't exactly a smooth criminal bout this, Ron. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I mean, you didn't even secure tha securitizzle guard. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude probably called dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

 **RONALD  
** Well, I, I didn't, I didn't be thinkin t -- 

 **DEAN**  
All right, hang on, hang on, letz just take a funky-ass breath here fo' a second, all right, biatch? They- they've probably gots our asses surrounded. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! They've cut tha juice ta tha cameras so there be a no way of spittin some lyrics ta whoz ass tha shapeshifta is.   
(takes a funky-ass breath)  
It aint nuthin but not lookin good, Ron. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

RONALD flinches at a noise, brangin tha rifle up.

 **DEAN**  
Did yo dirty ass hear that?  


  
INT. VAULT

It aint nuthin but now dark up in tha vault as well, n' all dem of tha hostages is fannin theyselves. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SHERRY is still babblin at SAM; his schmoooove ass continues ta roll his wild lil' fuckin eyes.

 **SHERRY**  
Has yo' brutha always been so, um, wonderful, biatch? I mean, starin down dat gun. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And you know tha way -- he played right tha fuck into dat psychoz wild-ass head, spittin some lyrics ta his ass what tha fuck da thug wanted ta hear, I mean,   
(SAM stares at her)  
Dat punk like, a real pimp or, or something.

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Yeah.

Da door opens ta reveal DEAN; he now has a handgun.

 **SHERRY  
** Oh mah god, you saved us muthafucka! Yo ass saved us!

 **DEAN  
** Actually, I just found all dem mo' n' mo' n' mo'. Come on, everybody, letz go. Letz go. 

SHERRY stares up in mad drama as nuff muthafuckin mo' people, includin tha GUARD from earlier, is herded inside.

 **SHERRY  
** What is you bustin?

 **DEAN  
** Sam, look, uh, Ronald n' I need ta rap ta you, biatch. 

SAM leaves tha vault n' DEAN shuts tha door behind him, shruggin apologetically.

 **DEAN  
** It aint nuthin but shed its skin again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Us dudes don't give a fuck when - it could be up in tha halls, it could be up in tha vault. 

 **SAM  
** Great. Yo ass know, Dean, yo ass is wanted by tha police. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah.

 **SAM  
** So even if our phat asses do find dis damn thang -- how tha fuck tha hell is we gonna git outta here?

 **DEAN**  
Well, one problem at a time fo' realz. All right, I'ma do a sweep of tha whole place, peep if we can find any stragglers. Once we git mah playas together we've gots ta play a lil game of find-the-freak, so . . . here.  
(handz SAM a silver letta opener)  
Found another one of these fo' you, biatch. Now stay here, make shizzle Ronald don't hurt anybody, aiiight, biatch? Help his ass manage tha thang.

 **SAM (voice risin up in outrage)  
** Help his ass manage, biatch? Is you insane?

Alerted by Samz raised voice, RONALD looks over n' shit. DEAN looks past SAM n' gives RONALD a grinnin thumbs-up.

 **DEAN**  
(quietly)  
Look, I know dis aint goin tha way we wanted,

 **SAM**  
(shouting)  
Understatement playa!

 **DEAN  
** But if we invite tha cops up in up in dis biatch, Ronald gets arrested, we git arrested, tha shifta gets away, probably never find it again, aiiight?

RONALD is peerin up tha window, up in plain view, n' SAM gestures at his ass up in exasperation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** Ron! Out of tha light playa!

 **SAM  
** Seriously?!

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, Ronz game plan was a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shitty-ass plan, I mean, dat shiznit was a lil' bit of a wild-ass plan yo, but right now crazyz tha only game up in town, aiiight?

DEAN slaps SAM on tha shoulder n' leaves. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM sighs, leans back, n' rolls his wild lil' fuckin eyes at RONALD.

 **SAM**  
Yea muthafucka, Ronald.  


  
INT yo. HALLWAY

DEAN creeps along tha dark hallways wit a gangbangin' flashlight, listenin fo' soundz n' watchin fo' movement.  


  
INT. VAULT 

Da hostages is fannin theyselves again, n' SHERRY looks mad salty. Da GUARD begins clutchin his chest n' breathang hard. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **SAM  
** I be goin ta leave dis open. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Give you muthafuckas some fresh air, all right, biatch? But no one leaves dis vault.

Da beeper rings, n' RONALD spins around, panicked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **SHERRY  
** I don't understand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Why is you helpin him?

 **SAM  
** Yo ass wouldn't believe me if I holla'd at you, biatch.

 **RONALD**  
(pickin up tha phone)  
Hello?

 **GUARD**  
(pained)  
I be thinkin I gotta git outta here biaatch!

 **SAM  
** Look, I be straight-up sorry yo, but you just goin ta gotta stay put, all right?

 **RONALD  
** What, biatch? What do you mean, demands?

 **SAM  
** Ronald hommie! Hang up!

 **RONALD  
** Fuck dat shit, I, I aint a funky-ass bank robber, I, I, I --

 **GUARD  
** I've gots ta straight-up git outta here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **SAM  
** Sir, you can't leave biaatch!

 **RONALD  
** \-- kind of a cold-ass lil crime fighter, I guess.

 **SAM  
** Ronald dawwwg!

Da GUARD is strugglin ta tha door; nuff muthafuckin other hostages includin a well-built middle-aged MAN, help his muthafuckin ass. 

 **SAM**  
(to tha hostages)  
Look-

 **RONALD  
** Fuck dat shit, I be actin ridin' solo.

SAM sighs n' goes over ta tha phone, slammin it ta hang up. 

 **SAM  
** Ronald, biatch? Da less tha cops know, tha better.

 **MAN  
** Yo dawwwwg! I be thinkin dis dudez havin a ass attack!

 **WOMAN  
** Git a thugged-out doctor son!

 **SAM  
** Great. Could be our muthafucka. Could be a trick. 

 **MAN  
** Yo ass just goin ta let tha playa die?

 **SAM**  
No onez dyin up in dis biatch.  
(to RONALD)  
Cover tha door.

SAM snatches tha phone.  


  
INT yo. HALLWAY

DEAN continues hustlin thangs.  


  
INT. COMMAND CENTER

Da plainthreadz DETECTIVE is on tha beeper wit SAM; tha fool is up in tha foreground, listening. 

 **DETECTIVE**  
Yo ass betta tell me how tha fuck nuff hostages dis muthafuckaz taken?  


  
INT. VAULT ROOM

 **SAM**  
Look, one of tha playas could be havin ass shit. Yo ass need ta bust up in a paramedic.  


  
INT. COMMAND CENTER

 **DETECTIVE**  
Just stay calm, we'll have you folks outta there.  


  
INT. VAULT ROOM

 **SAM**  
(shouting)  
Just bust up in a paramedic, aiiight, biatch? And don't try anythang else. Please. 

 **MAN  
** Paramedic, biatch? Us dudes aint gots time fo' that, man!

 **RONALD  
** Listen, I, I, I be sorry, aiiight, biatch? I am. But no muthafuckaz gettin out. 

 **MAN  
** Dat punk dyin right up in front of you, biatch.

 **GUARD**  
Help!  


  
INT yo. HALLWAY

DEAN stops n' looks up, seein a cold-ass lil ceilin panel askew yo. Dude picks up a cold-ass lil coat rack n' begins pokin it yo. Dude dislodges it n' a naked body falls ta tha floor yo. Dude turns it over; it is tha MAN whoz ass has been helpin tha GUARD. His throat has been slit.  


  
INT. VAULT ROOM

Da MAN (SHAPESHIFTER) is still holdin up tha GUARD, whoz ass is panicked n' breathang painfully.

 **SHAPESHIFTER  
** Come on, dude, you've gotta unlock tha front door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. We've gots ta git his ass outta here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **RONALD**  
(cockin tha rifle)  
Both of y'all stay where yo ass is. 

DEAN returns n' whispers, inaudible, ta SAM. Da SHAPESHIFTER watches dem warily. 

 **SAM**  
(goin tha fuck into tha vault)  
Yo ass know what, Ronald, biatch? Dat punk right, we've gots ta git dis playa outside. Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I've gots you, biatch.

Dude takes tha GUARD from tha SHAPESHIFTER

 **SHAPESHIFTER  
** Yeah, yeah, let me help you, biatch.

 **SAM  
** Oh, I gots him, it's, itz cool. Thanks.

SAM gets tha GUARD outta tha way; DEAN glares all up in tha SHAPESHIFTER n' approaches tha vault. 

 **GUARD  
** Nuff props, biatch. Nuff props, biatch.

 **SAM  
** Sure.

 **GUARD  
**... Nuff props, biatch.

 **DEAN (walkin ta SHAPESHIFTER)  
** Yo, can I rap ta you fo' a second?

 **SHAPESHIFTER**  
(comin out)  
Yo ass gots tha gun, man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I mean, whatever n' shit. 

As he gets close enough, he attacks DEAN, knockin his ass ta tha ground n' hustlin tha fuck into tha dark of tha hallways. DEAN gets up n' chases afta his muthafuckin ass.

 **RONALD  
** Stop! Come back here biaatch!

RONALD races afta dem both, which puts his ass up in tha open again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM sees a laser sight on his back; up in slow-motion n' silence, SAM shouts at his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM**  
(inaudible, up in slow motion)  
Git down! Now!

Slow Motion: Da sniper fires, hittin RONALD squarely up in tha chest fo' realz. As he falls, DEAN ducks behind a low wall, n' SAM n' DEAN both peep up in horror. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. RONALD slumps ta his knees, then ta tha floor yo. Dude is dead as fuckin fried chicken.


	4. ACT THREE

EXT. BANK

Establishin blasted- tha scene is much like (and apparently up ta tha time of) tha TEASER, complete wit handheld camera shots, n' you can put dat on yo' toast.   


  
INT. VAULT ROOM

Da hostages run outta tha vault as DEAN crawls behind another low wall nearer where RONALD fell. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM ducks down beside him, both panting. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM pulls up tha key n' handz it ta DEAN.

 **SAM  
** Here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Take care of tha guard. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be goin afta tha shifter.

Dude runs off, n' DEAN crawls over towardz RONALD.

 **DEAN  
** Sorry, Ron. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass did a real phat thang trackin dis thang, you straight-up done did. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

Dude takes tha rifle and, lookin round furtively, runs off towardz tha GUARD.   


  
INT yo. HALLWAY

SAM approaches a funky-ass broom closet n' opens it suddenly; itz empty yo. Dude hears suttin' behind his ass n' turns. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SHERRY screams; she n' tha other hostages have gathered, tryin ta escape. 

 **SHERRY  
** Please don't hurt us!

 **SAM  
** Yo ass shouldn't be back here right now! Yo ass is up in danger playa! Now go back ta tha vault. Now!

They run back.  


  
EXT. BANK

Holdin tha GUARD up in front of his ass n' tha rifle up in his other hand, DEAN approaches tha front door slowly. Outside, nuff muthafuckin paramedics pull a stretcher outta a ambulance.

 **DEAN  
** Everythingz goin ta be all right.

 **GUARD  
** Fuck dat shit, don't blast son! Don't blast son! Please biaatch!

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, no, no, no, no! Don't even be thinkin bout dat shiznit son!

 **GUARD  
** Please biaaatch! Don't blast playa!

 **DEAN (lookin round all up in tha media frenzy outside)**  
Son of a --  
(shouting)  
I holla'd git back! Now!  


  
INT. COMMAND CENTER

 **OFFICER  
** One of tha hostages yo. Dude seems ta have taken over tha thang. 

 **DETECTIVE**  
Excuse me son?  


  
EXT. BANK

 **DEAN  
** Okay, go, go!

Da GUARD stumblez up as DEAN draws back inside, shuttin tha door n' latchin dat shit.

 **DEAN**  
(muttering)  
We is so screwed.  


  
ELSEWHERE: SAM has found another shed skin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude calls DEAN.

 **DEAN**  
(pickin up his cell)  
Yeah?

 **SAM  
** Slipped his skin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, bastard shifts fast fo' realz. A lot fasta than tha one up in St. Louis. 

 **DEAN  
** God, itz like playin tha shell game. Well shiiiit, it could be anybody fo' realz. Again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **SAM  
** Yeah, I be thinkin most of tha hommies is outta tha vault by now, nahmeean, biatch? 

 **DEAN**  
All right, you search every last muthafuckin inch of dis place, I'ma go round dem hoes up.   


  
EXT. BANK 

A black sedan n' nuff muthafuckin black trucks pull onto tha scene.   


  
INT. COMMAND CENTER

 **OFFICER  
** Crap.

 **DETECTIVE  
** What?

 **OFFICER  
** Da Fedz is here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **DETECTIVE  
** Oh, crap.

A mousy, bespectacled playa up in a STD jacket entas n' stares at them; then a tall, commanding, shaven-headed black playa pushes past.

 **AGENT  
** Lieutenant Robards. 

 **DETECTIVE (ROBARDS)  
** Yeah.

 **AGENT  
** Special Agent Henriksen.

 **ROBARDS  
** Let me guess. Yo ass is lead dawg now yo, but you would just ludd mah full cooperation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **HENRIKSEN  
** I don't give a ratz ass what tha fuck you do, you can go git a thugged-out donut n' bang yo' hoe fo' all I care. What I do need is yo' S.W.A.T. crew locked n' loaded. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **ROBARDS  
** Listen,  _Agent_. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Somethingz not right bout all dis bullshit. It's, um ... it aint goin down like a usual heist. 

 **HENRIKSEN**  
Thatz cuz it aint one. Yo ass have no clue what tha fuck you dealin with, do yo slick ass, biatch? There be a monsta up in dat bank, Robards.   


  
INT yo. HALLWAY

SAM continues hustlin thangs.  


  
INT. VAULT ROOM

DEAN herdz tha hostages back tha fuck into tha vault. 

 **SHERRY  
** And I thought you was one of tha phat muthafuckas. 

 **DEAN  
** Whatz yo' name?

 **SHERRY  
** Why would you care?

 **DEAN  
** Hoes call me Dean.

 **SHERRY  
** I be Sherry. 

 **DEAN  
** Yea muthafucka, Sherry. Everythingz gonna be all right. This will all be over soon, aiiight?

DEAN shuts tha vault door n' spins tha lock as tha landline rings yo. Dude sets down his handgun n' lyrics dat shit. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah?

 **HENRIKSEN**  
(on tha phone, up in tha command center)  
This is Special Agent Victor Henriksen.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, listen, I aint straight-up up in tha negotiatin vibe up in dis biatch, so-

 **HENRIKSEN (interrupting)  
** Good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Me neither n' shit. It aint nuthin but mah thang ta brang you in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. Kickin Itz a funky-ass bonus but not necessary. 

 **DEAN  
** Whoa. Kinda harsh fo' a Federal Agent, don't you think?

 **HENRIKSEN**  
Well, you not tha typical suspect, is you, Dean?  
(DEAN looks horrified)  
I want you n' Sam up here, unarmed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Or we come in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And fo'sho, I know bout Sam like a muthafucka. Bonnie ta yo' Clyde. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, well, dat partz true yo, but how'd you even know we was here?

 **HENRIKSEN  
** Go screw yo ass, thatz how tha fuck I knew. It aint nuthin but become mah thang ta know bout you, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I been lookin fo' you fo' weeks now, nahmeean, biatch? I know bout tha cappin' up in St. Louis, I know bout tha Houdini act you pulled up in Baltimore. I know bout tha desecrations n' tha thefts, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. I know bout yo' dad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **DEAN**  
(darkly)  
Yo, you don't give a fuck crap bout mah dad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **HENRIKSEN  
** Ex-marine, raised his fuckin lil playas on tha road, skanky motels, backwood cabins. Real paramilitary survivalist type. I just can't git a handle on what tha fuck type of whacko da thug was. White supremacist, Timmy McVeigh, to-may-to, to-mah-to.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass gots no right poppin' off bout mah daddy like dis shiznit yo. Dude was a hero. 

 **HENRIKSEN**  
Yeah. Right. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sheezy soundz like dat shit. Yo ass have one minute ta cook up a thugged-out decision or we come all up in dem doors full automatic.   
(Dean hears a cold-ass lil click as Henriksen hangs up tha phone.)

DEAN poundz his wild lil' forehead up in frustration as dat schmoooove muthafucka hangs up tha phone.  


  
INT. COMMAND CENTER

 **HENRIKSEN  
** Scramble yo' men, five minutes, then we go in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **ROBARDS  
** What, biatch? Henriksen, they've let up one hostage so far. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. They've hurt no one as far as we can tell.

 **HENRIKSEN  
** Yo ass don't give a fuck these Winchesters. They're dangerous, smart, n' expertly trained. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **ROBARDS  
** We can't risk tha livez of all dem people

 **HENRIKSEN  
** Trust me, Deanz a pimped outa risk ta 'em than we are. 

 **ROBARDS  
** This is crazy.

 **HENRIKSEN  
** Crazyz up in there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho fo' realz. And I just hung up on dat shit. 

 


	5. ACT FOUR

INT yo. HALLWAY

SAM sees blood on tha floor up in front of a cold-ass lil closet; he opens it quickly, n' tha half-dressed body of SHERRY falls up yo. Her throat is slit. 

 **SAM**  
Dammit.  


  
INT. VAULT ROOM

SAM returns ta tha vault room, where DEAN is waiting; tha vault is shut.

 **DEAN  
** Hey. We've gots a lil' bit of a problem outside. 

 **SAM  
** We gots a problem up in here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

They open tha vault; tha hostages flinch n' look around.

 **DEAN  
** Sherry, biatch? We gonna let you go. 

 **SHERRY  
** What, biatch? Why me son?

 **DEAN  
** Uh, as a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass show of phat faith ta tha feds, come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **SHERRY  
** Uh ... I be thinkin I'd, I'd rather stay here, wit tha others. 

 **DEAN**  
(approaching)  
I be afraid I be goin ta gotta insist. 

She looks at dem warily; SAM is fingerin tha silver blade fo' realz. Afta a long-ass pause she approaches dem wild-ass muthafuckas.  


  
INT yo. HALLWAY 

SAM n' DEAN push SHERRY back ta tha hallway. 

 **SHERRY  
** I thought you was lettin me go.

DEAN shoves her forward, holdin her head n' forcin her ta peep tha body. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch begins beatboxin hysterically. 

 **DEAN  
** Is dat hood theater, or is you just naturally dat good?

 **SAM  
** This is tha last time you become anybody. Ever n' shit. 

 **SHERRY  
** No! Oh god hommie! Ohhhh ....

She faints.

DEAN n' SAM stare at her, baffled, then back all up in tha other body. DEAN removes rifle from his shoulder n' kneels over dressed!Sherry yo. Dude raises tha blade wit a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shrug yo, but SAM puts up a hand ta stop his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** Dean, wait, wait, wait. Whatz tha advantage of dis plan, biatch? I mean, faintin now wouldn't help it survive. 

 **DEAN**  
(lookin back all up in tha other body)  
Huh.

DEAN kneels over tha other body, then looks up, distracted by a noise. Da body opens its eyes; it is tha SHAPESHIFTER. Well shiiiit, it lashes up n' grabs DEAN by tha throat fo' realz. As da perved-out muthafucka struggles, stabbin at it, SHERRY wakes up. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch screams again n' again n' again (Ahhhh! Oh, god....) SAM goes over ta her, gatherin her up in his thugged-out arms. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is.

DEAN looks over: Git her outta here biaaatch! Now! n' continues strugglin wit tha shapeshifter n' shit. SAM n' SHERRY muthafuckin bounce. DEAN strugglez wit tha shapeshifta fo' a moment, then tha SHAPESHIFTER knees DEAN up in tha chin n' bolts, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. 

ELSEWHERE, tha S.W.A.T. crew creeps all up in fucked up glass n' tha fuck into tha bank. DEAN ducks round a cold-ass lil corner ta stay tha fuck away from one. 

In another hallway, they find SHERRY, whoz ass backs against tha wall, terrified.

 **SHERRY  
** Don't blast son! Don't blast son! I work here biaaatch! I work here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Please ... git me up son! Git me outta here ....

Yo, nuff muthafuckin of dem guide her out; two others continue down tha hallway. They peep SAM, whoz ass stops.

 **MAN**  
Freeze biaaatch! Let me peep yo' hands.  


  
INT. BOILER ROOM

DEAN hunts yo. Dude turns n' gets slammed up in tha grill by tha SHERRY-shaped SHIFTER'S hand; he goes down.  


  
INT yo. HALLWAY

SAM turns abruptly n' takes up tha two armored policemen singlehandedly.  


  
INT. BOILER ROOM

DEAN recovers, settlez tha fuck into a gangbangin' fightin stizzle yo. Dude swipes at it wit tha silver blade, n' it avoidz tha attack, retaliating. They tussle; he gets up in two phat head-butts yo. Dude slashes at her again; she grabs his wrist n' wrenches it up, n' he grasps her forearm; her skin slips off stickily.

 **DEAN  
** Gross. 

She kicks his ass hard between tha legs, then nuff muthafuckin times up in tha grill yo. Dude grabs her leg n' wrenches it back, shovin her against tha wall. They struggle like dat fo' a moment before he manages ta ram tha silver blade tha fuck into her chest.

 **SHIFTER  
** Ahhh! Ahhhhh.... Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. She/It groans n' Dean lets her/it slide ta tha floor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Dude hears a sound n' flinches, then turns n' kneels up in front of her muthafuckin ass.

A uniformed playa entas tha room wit a gangbangin' flashlight n' stops; we can only peep his boots, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. DEAN looks back, panting. 

 


	6. ACT FIVE

INT yo. HALLWAY

Preceded by nuff muthafuckin fools, HENRIKSEN entas tha building, glock up yo. Dude strides down tha main hallway. Officers is goin up in front of him, lookin up in rooms, n' calling: CLEAR! CLEAR! as they go all up in tha rooms. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is.

They find tha body of tha straight-up original gangsta MAN.

 **OFFICER**  
Male, African Gangsta. Goner n' shit.   


  
INT. BOILER ROOM

Another fool is kneelin up in front of tha SHAPESHIFTER'S Sherry-shaped body.

 **OFFICER, lookin up ta another fool**  
I be spittin some lyrics ta you, man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I just strutted her outta tha bank. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch must gotz a twin sista or something.   


  
INT yo. HALLWAY

 **OFFICER**  
(comin up behind HENRIKSEN)  
Sir, biatch? My fuckin crew holla'd itz secure. They're gone.

 **HENRIKSEN  
** Yo ass rap r crew ta tear it apart son! Da ducts, tha ceilings, tha furnace, every last muthafuckin thang.

 **OFFICER  
** I don't be thinkin thatz necessary.

 **HENRIKSEN  
** Why not?

Da OFFICER takes HENRIKSEN ta a funky-ass broom closet, where two pimps is stripped ta they underwear n' handcuffed back-to-back on tha floor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

HENRIKSEN nodz up in chagrin n' frustration, as tha Styx cold lil' woo wop [Renegade](http://www.guntheranderson.com/v/data/renegade.htm) starts playin ("Oh, mama, I be up in fear fo' mah game from tha long arm of tha --"

  
EXT. BANK - MORNING

Yo, styx: "-- law. Lawman is pullin' tha fuck into mah runnin', n' I be soopa-doopa far from mah home. Oh, mama, I can hear you a-cryin', you so scared n' all ridin' solo. Hangman is comin down from tha gallows, n' I aint gots straight-up long." As tha Styx cold lil' woo wop “Renegade” continues ta play, two pimps up in S.W.A.T. armor wit weapons have exited tha bank n' is hustlin up stairs on tha outside of a funky-ass buildlng. They exit tha stairs n' turn tha fuck into tha deck of a parkin garage, struttin ta a cold-ass lil hoopty -- tha IMPALA. They git tha fuck into tha hoopty n' we peep itz Sam n' Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da noize stops. Sam n' Dean pull off they masks, panting, n' sit up in silence fo' a moment, lookin somber n' shit.

 **DEAN  
** We is so screwed.

Yo, sAM nodz minutely.

DEAN starts tha car, SAM up in tha passenger seat. Exhausted, they pull outta tha parkin garage. 

Yo, styx skits again, boombox riff, then "Oh, mama, I be up in fear fo' mah game, from tha long arm of tha law." Music cuts off abruptly as tha episode ends.

 


End file.
